Drumming Song
by KemicalRomantik
Summary: It had started the Night he made her, it was always there when he was near.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Inspired by Florence + the Machine. Don't own her music just like I don't own Hellsing or any of its marvellous characters. Rated M for future.

* * *

_There's a drumming noise inside my head_

_That starts when you're around_

_I swear that you could hear it_

_It makes such an all mighty sound_

_(F+M, Drumming Song)_

She always knew when he was near. It didn't matter where exactly, so long as he was within her five hundred-meter radius. Normally. These days it was so strong she could feel him in the background of her mind, a strong dark presence that started the drumming noise. She didn't consciously seek him out, didn't attempt to find him but when he was close there was just a… pull, a draw to him that was accompanied by the beating in her mind. The further he was from her the quieter it became but it was always there, pounding. It reminded her of her human years and sometimes if she ran fast enough, or if she had been in the fray of a police chase, she had imagined hearing her own heartbeat within her ears. Except, her heart didn't beat anymore… so Seras thought of it like the beating of a drum.

Seras couldn't remember when the noise had started and yet she could hardly recall what it was like without it. She supposed it had started the night he made her like him under that full moon. It had hung huge and full suspended within the night sky and had been so mystical, she was certain that moons like that one had ignited fear in the hearts of humans concerning what lurks in the dark outside their ramshackle abodes. Nights like those had started myths and legends. It was with a grim humour that Seras laughed at her previous thoughts and those of every other mortal who had feared what went bump in the night. The noises, the screams, the murders; she knew now that everything she had feared was indeed not a fallacy and much, much worse in truth.

Now, she was not a poet by nature, but the imagery given unto her by the moon was unforgettable. Seras wasn't sure where she'd heard the term but she felt the need to describe it as a witching moon. Where witches danced in their circle naked and bloody beneath the moon's glow chanting, singing, howling, screaming, and laughing while all manner of things evil or not walked the earth thriving on the power of its luminance. She fancied that was why they had created this connection, the influence of the moon having some cosmic effect on the bond that had formed between them, but didn't know if he heard it at all, felt its pull, and truly she wasn't about to ask either. His madness had seeped through their blood bond, crawling on all fours as it travelled slowly through her veins until finally it had stood up and ran straight for her grey matter. It had fallen like rain upon her thoughts, trickling through every pore like water, insanity sprinkled so carefully throughout her mind that on occasion, random and dreary situations would bring fits of laughter to her lips that she barely managed to constrain behind clenched teeth. A beast was within her she was sure, the poison had corroded something within her, tainted it but it was a part of her she had yet to discover. Consequently she wasn't going to rave on about something that could potentially draw unnecessary attention to her mental state.

With this soul deep connection, for she felt him down to her bones and he flowed within her veins, nagging her everlastingly she needed to search for others like her. Others who had been changed with abnormalities, powers, like her bond with Master. It was a while after she had died Seras began spending hours searching the library within the manor for anything remarkably similar when she was finished with missions and her Master out of sight. His presence within the mansion was intimidating and she felt like she might run into him around any corner and she knew Master would pry, discovering things she would rather he wasn't aware of until she had information. She had read about half of the vampire texts within the library in a little over six months. She slept little and hadn't yet touched a blood bag much to her Master's displeasure, but during this time she also had become better at understanding the tempo of her drumming song. She could tell where he was in the mansion from the volume degree within her head. She found not a single record or account of any strange vampires. Seras had felt dejected with no clues or whys. More weeks passed with nothing to show for her devoted and incessant research until eventually on one day the lack of sleep combined with her absence of nourishment made her fall asleep whilst reading on an old leather bound book.

How long she lay there unmoving on the leather was unknown to her but she was sure she had dreamt. Since transforming she only ever remembered that dream, the one she had had while she was lying prone under the eyes of her Master, the ghouls she had recreated in it had seemed almost comical. The reason for that was probably because the real ones were far too gruesome to relive then. They had chased her and she had screamed until waking up to face her smirking Master. She had blushed having lifted up her shirt callously in front of him, in her defence she hadn't known she was in the company of others, before letting loose another bout of shrieks. Though beyond that night she had never remembered any of them, which she concluded to be the reason everyone believed that vampires were incapable of dreaming. She was absolutely certain she had dreamt for when she awoke it was with a name upon the tip of her tongue. The lone syllable ghosted over her lips on the exhale of her breath. '_Vlad.'_

Saying the name had sent pleasant tingles racing down her spine, like a lover's caress, and she shivered. The feeling was much like '_Master' _always had given her. At the mention of her Master the name came flying to her mouth again, and she realized with much ire at her own idiocy, that the feelings attached to the words were the same. Vlad had to be the name of her Master. She wrote the name down so she would remember it, as if she could possibly forget it. On an impulse she finished by adding _'Dracula' _with a flourish. She stared at what she had written for a long breath and then directly underneath she wrote '_Alucard_'. Merely _'Dracula'_ backwards yet it was almost painful to write, the quiet drumming in her mind became a mournful tune and feelings she couldn't comprehend roiled within her stomach. What her master was called now felt wrong.

Seras realized that to spite her Master the Hellsing family had changed his name, as an insult to him. Another one of her feelings, she mused sardonically while rubbing her stomach because she was feeling nauseas, almost sick with rage. She felt anger towards Sir Integra that she had never felt towards the older woman before. Seras wanted her Master free, but she couldn't think of how she was ever going to accomplish that. As she sat there at the table with his name scrawled in front of her it became clear that to learn more about the connection she had to learn more about her Master.

She shut her notebook, closed the book she had drooled on and returned it to the shelf. As she went back to her table to retrieve her pen the drumming song grew louder, Master was here. A smile bloomed on her lips and she looked around for him but he was nowhere that she could see. She turned to leave and was surprised to find him right in front of her, as she always was, for he loved to scare her. She stumbled in an attempt to stop before she hit him but couldn't, she ran straight into his chest, almost falling on her face in the process. Strong masculine hands steadied her and heat burned in her cheeks from the feel of his touch and the drums played flirtatiously in her brain. Seras glanced up at her master seeing first his Cheshire grin before trailing her eyes upward admiring the sharp contours of his face and finally, as she always seemed to, lost herself in the hellish blaze of his eyes. He released her before speaking, she sighed internally, with his voice that resonated with an underlying accent she could never place.

"Clumsy as always police girl, such an odd draculina." His words were bursting with amusement at her lack of grace, he knew he was the cause for her clumsiness but he adored making her flustered, his eyes told her so as they too sparked with pleasure. She sputtered in response, finding nothing to say and desperate to keep her thoughts masked, she finally came upon a meek:

"Sorry Master." That pleased him too, she could tell from the twitch of his mouth that showed his deadly fangs. Even though his amusement came at her own expense she was proud to have made her master happy and the drums beat joyously in agreement. It occurred to her that he never spoke of them, but perhaps he couldn't hear them even though they thundered in her ears.

"I'll do better Master, V…" Seras closed her mouth into a smile. _'I almost said his name.'_ She fumed internally; she needed to keep her knowledge to herself. Alucard's eyebrow arched as he smirked, his grin spreading over his face even whilst snaking tendrils of black shadows began coiling around his face as he started to disappear. The shadows wrapped around him completely until he became but a black wisp that bent space and time that was nowhere and everywhere at once.

"See that you do…" His body had vanished completely yet his words hung stark and clear the air, they seemed to wrap around her like a blanket. "Police Girl."

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Read and tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Inspired by Florence + the Machine. Don't own her music just like I don't own Hellsing or any of its marvellous characters. Rated M for future.

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_There's a drumming noise inside my head_

_That throws me to the ground_

_I swear that you should hear it_

_It makes such an all mighty sound_

_(F+M, Drumming Song)_

Master was no ordinary vampire, as it turned out; he was the first of them all. Seras knew her master was strong, deadly, but she'd had no idea just how special he was. However, now that she thought about it she could dimly recall some of the vampires they'd slain address him fearfully as 'lord'. There was no record concerning how exactly he had become the vampire though, that was a secret her Master had coveted well.

She'd briefly looked up his human history and found him to have been born Vlad Dracula, a Prince and later Ruler of Wallachia. Wallachia she discovered was what is now present-day Romania. His father had been Vlad Dracul, He'd had brothers, two older half brothers Mircea and Vlad and a younger brother Radu. She would have delved deeper but she felt that it was wrong of her to invade his privacy like that. With pink cheeks she imagined he would tell her of his past as they lay together beneath the sheets of her bed, clothes scattered… She shut the book containing her master's past and ran her fingers along the gold inlayed Romanian letters. They held an ancient, elegant, beauty and an air of mystery, just as an old language should. Seras found she wanted to learn his native tongue so she could speak with him that way. Which brought back the bedroom and the sheets…

She searched for records on fledglings previous to her but wasn't having any luck. Seras had always loved the library but even her vampiric eyes were weary from her continuous reading. The drum in her mind played the same boring bar over and over and her mind was decided, she would embark on a mission to ask the one person who would have all the answers. Master. Her thoughts faltered… Master hadn't been very happy with her lately. She had been reluctant to drink the medicinal blood that Walter prepared for her every day, and the drum would work itself into a furious tempo when she refused, like it was angry at the continued denial of her true nature.

As it stood he was in a black mood whenever she saw him and he practically snarled insults her way over the subject. It was becoming increasingly difficult to remember why she refused to drink it, faintly she knew it had to do with keeping her humanity but there was a hunger induced fogginess to her thoughts. Her fangs poked out over her bottom lip and she struggled to make them return to their usual size. She didn't know what to do. Once she had been in the kitchen and had tried eating, but the normal human food had made her dry heave, and she couldn't swallow it because of the gagging. With nothing to bring up Seras hadn't made a mess, she had left the kitchen with an empty stomach and the stinging taste of bile in her mouth.

She was discovering that the weaker she became the louder her invisible drummer would play as if trying to send out a distress call that only she could hear. She wasn't about to help herself just yet, she refused to.

* * *

She couldn't remember making it to this hallway from the library, which normally would have worried her, but she was too weak to care. Seras walked slowly along the long corridor that led to her chamber; she had to stop and lean against the stone wall for balance as a wave of dizziness came upon her. Her vision bled black for a moment and her drum was quiet. Seras slid down the wall and pulled her knees to her chest as she attempted to breathe the black away. Eventually, as time passed her vision returned and she could see the dimly lit hallway with its lovely carpet flooring. She didn't move though, content to just sit there and breathe unnecessarily while staring at the deep burgundy and gold trim of the carpet.

She sat there for minutes, hours? Before black combat boots filled her field of vision. Seras blinked before looking up at the annoyed face of her Master. _'Don't frown Master, you'll wreck your pretty face.' _She watched as his eyebrow arched in amusement and his face softened into a grim smile. Her breathing faltered at this and she mistakenly inhaled through her nose. She couldn't stop her fangs that lengthened instantly reaching well past her lips, or her eyes that bled a deep crimson that would eventually become permanent. As soon as she drank that is. He smelled dark and rich like exotic spices and Seras could describe it only by the feeling it evoked in her. Lust. He smelled to her of pure unadulterated lust. The drummer beat faintly and furiously while she stared at the fire before her.

Seras couldn't have stopped the keening moan that ripped from her throat had she tried. As it was she couldn't control the movement of her body, which was straining and stretching towards her master. She missed his quick intake of breath and the blaze that lit up his eyes, but she followed the movement of his arm as it travelled to his mouth and she gasped as the scent of his blood filled her senses. He knelt and when the dripping wrist was pressed to her mouth there was no hesitation, only animalistic need and Seras drank.

The taste was of power and age, intoxicating, and she sucked down greedy gulps of his red elixir feeding the hunger inside. His essence was addictive and she needed more… she clamped hard with her teeth and tore deeper into his wrist. Through her red haze she watched his face, saw it contort with a pained pleasure and he hissed in satisfaction. He didn't stop her, didn't pull away, just looked at her with an intensity that screamed with sexual promise and she could only moan around the scarlet nectar. It seemed to last forever the two of them in that moment her taking and him giving, she would have continued but the blood assaulted her with its scent, its taste, its potency; her head pounded to a crazed beat and with the power flowing now through her veins… She felt a surge go through her before she lost consciousness and her world went dark.

The no life king stroked his fledgling's golden hair as she collapsed atop him. The feeling of her fangs digging into him had shot bullets of pleasure straight to his groin and he'd become hard immediately. Forcing his increasingly painful issue to the back of his mind he focused more on events leading up to this. For months he had watched her grow weaker week by week as her vampiric nature could only sustain her for so long. However, he'd had no idea and clearly neither had she, just how close she had come to a second death from starvation. Seras had surprisingly amused and delighted him since that faithful night, and she had begun to touch on a feeling that had never been felt by he. Affection was something no one had wrought from him yet somehow this blond turned waif of a vampire was bringing to life the dead thing in his chest. He brushed droplets of his blood from her stained lips and whispers flitted about his head in a rush.

'_so much red, yes…'_

'_Such a pretty thing.'_

'_Little draculina..'_

He had been alone as well as a slave for the Hellsing family for so long, insanity had threaded itself like a spider web throughout his mind. The whispers had come as he slowly lost the hold of his mind, because of the souls he held within himself, and as of late all the disembodied voices murmured reverently about the girl in his arms. He let his head fall back against the wall with a sigh of contentment. What was he going to do with her? She was hiding something from him, she had been since… well she'd always managed to keep some things hidden from him within her mind. He was an evil bastard but he had decided to leave her be, lately though her mind had been guarded whenever she was around him like she was worried he would discover something. That was most curious. Even more so was the fact he had found her in the library often but somehow she was always finished looking at whatever the hell she looked at before he arrived.

It seemed like she knew he was coming before he did, which was continuously contradicted by the real shock on her face when he appeared afore her. She was an unusual fledgling his Police Girl. He almost laughed at himself, of course she was, she had been born from himself had she not? Unusual was how she should be and he would not be so captivated by her otherwise. His thoughts travelled to the night in Cheddar.

He remembered most distinctly the moon. It had been glorious and with his glasses it had looked the colour of blood. It had made him want to drink, and drink he did. His police girl had been held against her will by another vampire, one dressed as a priest if you can fucking believe it. She had looked at him with pleading eyes as the priest touched her, put his slimy wormlike hands on her body. That's what he had been; a worm, and he had enjoyed slaughtering him. He had baited the vampire and then he was assaulted by bullets and had watched her eyes widen in concern and fear for him when it was clear he wasn't normal. She had been odd, different to him even then as a human. _'Silly police girl.' _

He had laughed insanely; those bullets had been pathetic, as if they or that ridiculous excuse for a vampire's ghouls could actually have killed him. He had risen and obliterated every single one of the bastard's minions with his silver Casul. Then the bastard had used her as a shield and she was afraid, but still not of him, never of him. Why that was he had never asked, though the question burned in him again now as he remembered. He had asked about her chastity and the police girl had sputtered in a way that would have made him laugh then as he did now but the situation had counted on her answer.

She confirmed what he had known deep down and he had killed her to end the life of the vampire, only to let her live again as those eyes begged him to. It had truly been a beautiful night. He never was sure why he had made her, loneliness? A rebellion against the slavery he had been forced into? He didn't know but she had been different, she had intrigued him and that had been enough.

When she had awoken she had lifted up her shirt to check the wound he'd given her, needless to say her chest had been perfect… She had accepted the news surprisingly well and he grinned in memory. In hindsight the nosferatu king realized he had been right to make her, perhaps it was high time he had some one to share the darkness of night with.

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Read and tell me what you think please.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Inspired by Florence + the Machine. Don't own her music just like I don't own Hellsing or any of its marvellous characters. Rated M for future.

* * *

"_Who is the betrayer?_

_Who's the killer in the crowd?_

_The one who creeps in corridors_

_And doesn't make a sound__"_

_(F+M, Heavy in Your Arms)_

Seras lay still, unmoving, as all vampires do. Appearing dead to the world, which is fitting to most who know of them because their general belief is that vampires are nothing more than the dead walking. Her Master's blood flowed through her, the strength, the vitality, it was changing her; memories started circulating through her, carried through her unconscious mind by the red river of blood in her arteries.

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_1442_

_The boy was bound naked and filthy within his cell. There was no chamber pot in the cobblestone room. On the other side of the cell, only some feet away was a sparse and soiled pile of straw, it did little to absorb the smell and it hadn't been replaced fresh in days. He smelled awful and he knew it, he was also aware that he was far thinner than he had been before his father had sold them to the Turks. They didn't care to feed him and occasionally remembered that if you want a prisoner alive you just might need to give them food. Once a day was his allotted number of meals and the food was disgusting, it was moulded and rotting when they brought it to him, scraps and leftovers from days past. He didn't want to eat, tried to fool himself that he didn't need it, but the hunger became too intense, a painful stabbing in his stomach lining. He was filled with hatred and anger at what his father had done to him, at what he himself had been reduced to. It was sickening._

_ His rage doubled as he thought of Radu. Poor little bastard didn't deserve this treatment anymore than he did, in fact the seven-year-old child didn't deserve it at all. He wished that somehow he could receive double the torture so that his brother would survive this horror unscathed. He looked down at his own prepubescent chest, the ribs were showing through his skin now and he looked over the red blistering welts that covered his chest and thighs. He didn't fear the whipping and he never screamed. His father had at least taught him that much. He would fight back against this imprisonment in any way he possibly could. He swore at the guards and taunted them as they flayed into his back, into his legs, his chest. He ridiculed them, an eleven year old with more strength and courage than any of the fuckers in the entirety of the Ottoman court. His eyes burned now, with unshed tears that he refused to let fall, his hatred filing him so completely now as it travelled through his body. He tensed before slowly letting the heated emotion overtake him. He made a vow in that moment. His father left him to fend for himself and his brother, had left them to rot. He would return to Wallachia and he would kill his father slowly, so that his father could feel the pain he felt and would continue to feel at the hands of his tormentors and he would watch with grim satisfaction as his father began to rot. The people he needed to kill before he could achieve this would just be an added benefit. Vlad always kept his word._

* * *

_It wasn't long before the rats started coming. They smelled something awful and that ensured the possibility of food in their little rodent brains. That was a miscalculation on their part. He didn't get much food himself and he was far larger. They didn't taste as bad as he thought they would, and with more sustenance he felt himself getting stronger. The straw seemed a good place to dispose of the rest of it, they didn't clean it anyway and with the added smell, more were sure to congregate here._

_

* * *

_

_He had managed to steal and scratch a wooden spoon into a point, and now he waited for one of the guards to bring him his daily meal. He was getting out today, and Radu was coming with him. He hadn't seen his little brother since the day they had been brought here. Had Radu grown? Vlad looked down and with satisfaction noticed that he had in the time that had passed. Exactly how much time had passed? His dark hair showed that time had waltzed ahead while he was stuck, reaching to the middle of his back when it had barely touched his chin before. It didn't matter; he would ask someone after he escaped with Radu. He was coiled now, resolved and he reminded himself of the snakes that he had seen in this country, poised and deadly. He would strike swiftly and carefully with a sharp stab to the guard's throat. The guard would bleed out in seconds, and he would run after taking any weapons the guard had on his person. He didn't know where he would find Radu but he would check every cell._

_Footsteps, he allowed himself a grim smirk. This was it. He watched through the thick bars of his cell the shadow that appeared first in the torchlight. Waited while it became larger and larger before a great fat body appeared in front of his door, blocking most of the dim lighting. The clinking of metal was heard as the guard searched for the right key. The audible click of the metal lock. The creak of the iron door as it opened outwards, the lumbering footsteps of the Turkish guard... he struck. The wood went through the fat neck of the guard and he let out a pitiful surprised gurgle before collapsing in a grotesque heap, not expecting that the boy would murder him, nor did he even reach for the sword at his side. The boy grinned as he ripped the sword from the guard's sheath. This would do well indeed; he practiced his parry and thrust, delighted to see that his skills had not dulled since the days of his instruction back in Wallachia. _

_He ran noiselessly down the corridor, sword in hand, hair flying behind him and he searched through the cells looking for any young boy that resemble Radu. He searched through every cell and still Radu was nowhere to be found. He took a flight of stairs slowly, assessing the position of guards, there were two. He moved like a shadow, like he was not of this world but from somewhere far more sinister. The guards never made a sound as he extinguished their miserable lives. There were more cells on this level, he shot his calculating stare at the body of one of the guards, he was still naked but it appeared that the clothes on the fresh corpse would fit. He dressed quickly and methodically, taking the leather boots from the other corpse and he took up the search again. Nothing. No Radu. Anger filled him but he shook free of its hold. It would not do if his anger affected his plan. He could not afford sloppiness. _

_He was stealthy as he moved upwards through the dungeons, killing noiselessly before tucking their bodies away so that a passing eye would discover naught. He entered an area close to surface; he could smell the fresh air from his hiding place. There were many guards here; they were smelly and foul as they shoved food down their gullets. One of the swine began to speak in his foul Turkish language._

"_The boy hostage is doing well in his studies I hear." The words startled him, could the filth be talking of Radu? It couldn't be. Their fathers hatred of the Turks ran deep within the blood of his sons and Radu had been no exception. His favourite game as a child had been 'the Holy War', where Radu would pretend to be a Christian knight who fought and defeated the infidel Turks; glee would shine in his young eyes as he let loose his last cry of triumph. Vlad had often been made to portray such a Turk, and laugh as Radu 'killed' him._

"_Ah, yes I hear this also. The younger prince of Wallachia," He spat the last word in disgust along with pieces of the slimy meat he had been eating. " That one is a good student, he follows the ways of Islam perfectly. Smart in math." This was from another guard, who belched loudly before continuing._

"_He serves the Sultan's son Mehmed well. I hear he is taken to the royal court often. They will make him a 'Bey' soon." The other guards chewed savagely in agreement._

"_So different from the filthy thing in the dungeons." One of them laughed. "The older brother is treated like a prisoner while the younger studies and is made Turkish royal." The guards began to howl at this. He clutched his head, his eyes burned; he wanted to kill them all. How could it be that after these years plotting and waiting to save his younger brother, Radu had betrayed him and their country by joining the Turks? The child had known the laws and about treason thanks to the teachings of their father's imported scholars. His brother was a traitor. He cried silently against the cold stone wall, imagining his heart shrivelling and dying in his chest. He could almost feel it as it hardened inside of him. He hated it this weakness, nothing in his life would ever touch him in this way again. He let the anger wash over him now, did not try to staunch it. He didn't care anymore. Didn't care for anything. He felt nothing but hatred in his heart. Hatred for his brother, hatred for his father, hatred for Turks, hatred for the Sultan's son for his influence on Radu. He wanted them all tortured, slowly. He lifted his sword slowly and then he moved. The guards' laughter was stopped._

_

* * *

_

_The forest outside of the prison would make good shelter before he began the long journey home. He had stopped and asked a Turkish merchant what year it was and the merchant eyed him before replying._

"_The winter of 1447" He killed the merchant after he responded. He would kill any and every Turk he passed. None would live. _

_Almost six years in the dungeon. He was almost seventeen years old. He found a river and washed himself for an hour. The smell had disappeared in the first few minutes but the remnants of the filth were still there, if only in his mind. He turned his sword on the mass of hair and sliced. Some of the black hairs now reached to his chin and he discarded his hair in the forest with an ease he thought should be possible in his effort to discard his heart._

_

* * *

_

Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing sat at the desk in her father's office. It was hers now, there was no doubt but with his painting hanging there huge and oppressive it would always be his. Her icy eyes flicked to the painting of her ancestor Abraham Van Hellsing. It was near the intimidating image of her father, there her ancestor hung strong and victorious over evil. It showed in the strong line of his jaw, the satisfaction in his eyes. He had conquered. The Hellsing organization carried his namesake as she did, for that she was glad. His name should live on, and she imagined that through her he himself did live on. The organization was his and she was his hand that was to guide his trigger.

She turned her gaze to the paperwork on her desk, dozens of reports. These reports all pointed to the same evidence, there were human made vampires running about England killing innocents. They had discovered chips inserted within the vampire's bodies. An unknown organization was to blame for this and she would discover them and have her _gun_ eradicate every single one of the bastards. She needed to speak to Walter.

"Walter." Her voice was strong, loud and hard, almost masculine in tone. Her butler and friend was old yet his hearing was impeccable, as he always heard her calls.

"Yes, sir?" She smiled, the same question he had asked since she'd been a girl but he could portray so many emotions and concerns in those two words.

"We have a situation, Walter. These reports indicate that an unnamed organization has been experimenting in an effort to create artificial vampires. They have succeeded. I want information on this Walter, that is an order." He bowed low and graceful, a soft smile on his aged face.

"Of course, sir. I presume you do not wish to consult Iscariot." Her teeth clenched and she broke the cigar she'd been about to light. Smoking soothed her and it was frowned upon for a woman to do such a thing. That only fuelled her desire to continue her vice.

"No, as much as it hurts my pride, this is too important to be foolish or juvenile. Inquire if you must." She turned away from him then, swivelling in her chair to face her window. She did not see him, but she knew that he bowed before he left her office with a final.

"Yes, sir."

It was fitting, the title. Abraham should have received such a one for his courage. She smiled coldly. She would tell Alucard of her thoughts. She wondered what his reaction would be. Perhaps there would not be one, but she would watch with fascination regardless. His loyalty to her was wrought from the seal that seared his hands, it was forced from him. She never forgot that. Vampires, it still disgusted her that she had to associate with them and yet being called Master by one filled her with a perverse pleasure. She knew he hated calling her that, how could he enjoy bowing at the feet of a human woman? It was for that exact reason that she demanded he use it when addressing her. With satisfaction she listened as it came forced from his inhuman lips. Shame the same could not be derived from his pet.

Seras Victoria. Now there was an anomaly. A vampire who acted like a human. She refused to drink blood, but it was only a matter of time. Integra seethed about her existence as she had the day he created her. There had been no record of him ever doing such a thing, which is the reason she never had thought to forbid such an act. Foolish she had been, and still even now she overestimated her control over him. Alucard was fickle and ever changing. Unpredictable. She would be unable to foresee any future indiscretions and it was likely that Alucard took pleasure from that fact.

Still the girl had been useful, she would acknowledge that much. She was strong and fast but not to the same degree as Alucard. She was quiet, timid and easily controllable. She was an excellent soldier a pawn and yet… She was a happy presence in the manor and made it seemed more like a home. She was an oddity. Strange she had not seen her today, there had been no missions that had needed her muscle. The manor had been quiet all day. Where was the girl? Better question, where was Alucard?

"Miss me, Integra? Truly I am flattered." She stood rigid, refusing to show him that he had surprised her. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The thought was more like a side comment, not meaning much of anything. She heard him chuckle lowly.

"I appreciate the compliment, Master." She was angry with herself for being so unaware, for slipping internally and allowing him such a pleasure. She did not turn to him, she would rather die.

"Of course not servant. Do not presume so much." She would not let her anger fill her tone, else that would allow him a small victory. "Where is your toy?" She said this off hand so not as to sound suspicious, like she might hold an interest at all for the vampire, but he was too clever for her.

"You miss her as well, Integra? Well, I'll be sure to let her know you care." He said with a sneer. "She has been about the manor, I know not where or what she has been doing. You presume I spend my free time monitoring her every move. You are mistaken, Master." An example of his complexity, or his madness one could never tell, that he would create something and not care at all about its welfare. She would not inquire further, he had managed to turn her words upon herself and she was not in the mood for more insults.

"That is all, servant." The tone was commanding and the message was clear; Alucard was not unintelligent. She felt his shadows enter and leave and then she was alone.

* * *

'Bey': Turkish title that means lord.

Just a side note. I really do think that Alucard it meant as an insult to him, so I'm really only going to call him that around Integra. Read and tell me what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note:

Hey lovely fanfic readers. I'd bet many of you have moved on from fic reading, as it has been several years on my part since I last updated. BUT! I have recently delved back into the realm of fanfiction with my new Blood plus story, and an update to my steamy fic 'One Sunny Day'. I have plans to sit down and crunch out a new chapter to Drumming Song in the next few days (or week) also. If anyone ever had any ideas for how this fic should go, I'd be happy to hear them just so I can get some more creativity flowing haha. I'll do my best to make the next chapter extra long too.

with love,

KemicalRomantik


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